have such deep affection for Shima, and he’ll probably remain one of my favorite characters of all time. At first glance, Shima seems like your standard romcom male lead. he’s tall, blonde and a bit aloof. At first, i enjoyed his presence but assumed he’d be another charming, popular love interest with a predictable personality. I could’ve listed ten others just like him without a second thought. But somehow, he completely defied my expectations as both a romantic lead and a character in his own right. Shima is a character written with tons of care, specially because of his slowly but steady growth. It’s only as the story progresses that we begin to see beyond his easygoing facade and catch glimpses of who he truly is beneath the surface. To both the audience and the characters around him, Shima appears laid-back and effortlessly friendly. His casual demeanor, his charm, and his gentle(if somewhat distant)interactions with others all paint a picture of someone who doesn’t take much to heart. His kind yet dismissive response to Mitsumi’s comment on the train reinforces that impression: he laughs it off, keeps things light, and seems unaffected. But there’s a quiet turning point in his portrayal. A small, seemingly trivial argument with Mitsumi shifts everything. In the heat of the moment, he throws her comment from the train back at her, revealing that it did, in fact, affect him. The moment is brief, but he says it with a distant and cutting smile. It shows that Shima has the capacity for sharpness, and more importantly, that he isn’t as untouched or unbothered as he seems. He internalizes things. He masks them. Up until this scene, our understanding of Shima has largely been built through the lens of others. How he acts, how he’s perceived, but never quite how he feels. It’s only when he and Mitsumi reconcile that we hear him express his emotions directly for the first time. He’s suddenly vulnerable, frustrated, regretful and anxious. It’s a side of him we haven’t seen before, and it’s clear this kind of emotional openness doesn’t come easily to him. From this point on Shima's thoughts and feelings are a lot more accessible to the audience, and that makes a huge shift in how we come to understand him going forward. As the story unfolds, it becomes clear that Shima isn’t simply an easygoing, go-with-the-flow kind of person. He’s a chronic people pleaser. He struggles to say no, especially when others expect something from him. He smiles, nods, and plays along, often at the expense of his own desires and ambitions, which seem so distant and neglected that they barely exist at all. And what’s most striking is that he doesn’t resist this, he leans into it. Rather than pushing back or asking who he wants to be, he accepts the version of himself that others project. He knows people make assumptions about him before truly knowing him, and instead of challenging those assumptions, he conforms to them. Over time, this has hollowed out his sense of self; he stops cultivating the parts of himself that might contradict what others expect. He becomes a reflection of other people’s perceptions, a role he plays so well, it’s almost easy to miss the emptiness underneath. Shima is such an interesting character, largely because he’s such an unreliable narrator. He genuinely can’t seem to tell when he’s being sincere and when he’s simply performing kindness out of habit. Because he developed his people-pleasing tendencies as a child, they’ve become so deeply ingrained that he no longer recognizes when he’s acting out of genuine care or just going through the motions. Even with Mitsumi, he can’t quite grasp why his kindness toward her feels different or if it even is. Shima carries a lot of hidden resentment toward himself. So much, in fact, that he doesn’t believe he’s worthy of being loved. In his mind, the kindness he’s shown, because it comes from habit and not intention feels fake, performative, even manipulative. He convinces himself that being kind with the hope of receiving kindness in return is a form of emotional dishonesty and a way of tricking people into liking him. one of my absolute favorite moments is when when Shima admits the light that Mitsumi carries is so blinding he feels pale in comparison. When says he cant see himself walking next to someone as good and deserving of love as Mitsumi.
but Loving someone means accepting their flaws, recognizing their scars, and being vulnerable enough to stand beside them anyway. Sometimes, it even means stepping back because you believe they deserve more than you can offer. That kind of love, quiet, selfless, and deeply respectful defines the relationship between Mitsumi and Shima. That mutual respect is what makes their bond so beautiful to me.
Mitsumi sees through Shima’s self-doubt. No matter how much he insists that his kindness is just a defense mechanism, she knows better. She’s experienced the warmth of his actions firsthand, the way his presence has grounded and supported her. What he calls a facade, she knows is simply the part of him he’s afraid to believe is real. And she loves him for it—not for some version he pretends to be, but for the person he already is, even if he doesn’t see it yet.
She never demands more than he’s ready to give. She never pushes him to explain his past or reveal wounds he’s not ready to show. She offers quiet understanding. She listens when he speaks and lets silence fill the space when he doesn’t. She knows that one day, when he’s ready, he’ll tell her about the parts of himself that are still hidden.
have such deep affection for Shima, and he’ll probably remain one of my favorite characters of all time.
At first glance, Shima seems like your standard romcom male lead. he’s tall, blonde and a bit aloof. At first, i enjoyed his presence but assumed he’d be another charming, popular love interest with a predictable personality. I could’ve listed ten others just like him without a second thought. But somehow, he completely defied my expectations as both a romantic lead and a character in his own right.
Shima is a character written with tons of care, specially because of his slowly but steady growth. It’s only as the story progresses that we begin to see beyond his easygoing facade and catch glimpses of who he truly is beneath the surface.
To both the audience and the characters around him, Shima appears laid-back and effortlessly friendly. His casual demeanor, his charm, and his gentle(if somewhat distant)interactions with others all paint a picture of someone who doesn’t take much to heart. His kind yet dismissive response to Mitsumi’s comment on the train reinforces that impression: he laughs it off, keeps things light, and seems unaffected.
But there’s a quiet turning point in his portrayal. A small, seemingly trivial argument with Mitsumi shifts everything. In the heat of the moment, he throws her comment from the train back at her, revealing that it did, in fact, affect him. The moment is brief, but he says it with a distant and cutting smile. It shows that Shima has the capacity for sharpness, and more importantly, that he isn’t as untouched or unbothered as he seems. He internalizes things. He masks them.
Up until this scene, our understanding of Shima has largely been built through the lens of others. How he acts, how he’s perceived, but never quite how he feels. It’s only when he and Mitsumi reconcile that we hear him express his emotions directly for the first time. He’s suddenly vulnerable, frustrated, regretful and anxious. It’s a side of him we haven’t seen before, and it’s clear this kind of emotional openness doesn’t come easily to him. From this point on Shima's thoughts and feelings are a lot more accessible to the audience, and that makes a huge shift in how we come to understand him going forward.
As the story unfolds, it becomes clear that Shima isn’t simply an easygoing, go-with-the-flow kind of person. He’s a chronic people pleaser. He struggles to say no, especially when others expect something from him. He smiles, nods, and plays along, often at the expense of his own desires and ambitions, which seem so distant and neglected that they barely exist at all. And what’s most striking is that he doesn’t resist this, he leans into it.
Rather than pushing back or asking who he wants to be, he accepts the version of himself that others project. He knows people make assumptions about him before truly knowing him, and instead of challenging those assumptions, he conforms to them. Over time, this has hollowed out his sense of self; he stops cultivating the parts of himself that might contradict what others expect. He becomes a reflection of other people’s perceptions, a role he plays so well, it’s almost easy to miss the emptiness underneath.
Shima is such an interesting character, largely because he’s such an unreliable narrator. He genuinely can’t seem to tell when he’s being sincere and when he’s simply performing kindness out of habit. Because he developed his people-pleasing tendencies as a child, they’ve become so deeply ingrained that he no longer recognizes when he’s acting out of genuine care or just going through the motions. Even with Mitsumi, he can’t quite grasp why his kindness toward her feels different or if it even is. Shima carries a lot of hidden resentment toward himself. So much, in fact, that he doesn’t believe he’s worthy of being loved. In his mind, the kindness he’s shown, because it comes from habit and not intention feels fake, performative, even manipulative. He convinces himself that being kind with the hope of receiving kindness in return is a form of emotional dishonesty and a way of tricking people into liking him. one of my absolute favorite moments is when when Shima admits the light that Mitsumi carries is so blinding he feels pale in comparison. When says he cant see himself walking next to someone as good and deserving of love as Mitsumi.
but Loving someone means accepting their flaws, recognizing their scars, and being vulnerable enough to stand beside them anyway. Sometimes, it even means stepping back because you believe they deserve more than you can offer. That kind of love, quiet, selfless, and deeply respectful defines the relationship between Mitsumi and Shima. That mutual respect is what makes their bond so beautiful to me.
Mitsumi sees through Shima’s self-doubt. No matter how much he insists that his kindness is just a defense mechanism, she knows better. She’s experienced the warmth of his actions firsthand, the way his presence has grounded and supported her. What he calls a facade, she knows is simply the part of him he’s afraid to believe is real. And she loves him for it—not for some version he pretends to be, but for the person he already is, even if he doesn’t see it yet.
She never demands more than he’s ready to give. She never pushes him to explain his past or reveal wounds he’s not ready to show. She offers quiet understanding. She listens when he speaks and lets silence fill the space when he doesn’t. She knows that one day, when he’s ready, he’ll tell her about the parts of himself that are still hidden.